Page 84 of War Hour

“Of course,” Lord Gennady says. “As with my court’s name, I want nothing more than us to find the truth in all this.” At this, Lord Gennady levels a look in Lord Drytas’s direction.

When the table discusses Lady Ivianna’s suggestion, Torryn pulls me to look at him. “I didn’t know the Truthsayer was here, or I would have prepped you for meeting him.”

I can’t even listen to what he is saying.

In a shaking voice, I ask, “What are they talking about? What did Drytas tell them?”

Torryn’s face hardens, and he looks to the ceiling in frustration. Moving to sweep his fingers through the top of his hair, Torryn sighs. “I don’t know what he said, but I have no doubt he is spinning it to look like we violated the treaty. But if they bring the Truthsayer, then he can’t get away with it.”

His words do nothing to comfort me. A crease forms in between my eyebrows as I look over his shoulder at the table. Evander sits, his face passive as the chaos unravels around him.

“Lysta, listen to me,” Torryn insists, pulling back my attention. “The Truthsayer can make it so no one can question what is truth or lies.”

Of all the powers that I’ve seen in the capital, I have yet to hear of one from the Court of Truth. But this must be one of them. But why would just another power have its own title? Truthsayer sounds ominous and official.

My eyes search the table, landing on Lord Drytas. Sitting with his hands clasped on the table in front of him, Drytas leans back in his chair. Nothing about him portrays anything but cool composure. As if sensing my attention, Drytas turns his head, meeting my gaze. He gives me a grin, nodding to me, before turning away.

If Torryn is right about the Truthsayer, this will not end well for Lord Drytas. But if it is true, why isn’t he more worried than he is? Shouldn’t he be fighting tooth and nail against bringing in the Truthsayer?

Chapter 32

The Truthsayer does not bow. Not to Lord Gennady, whose court he belongs, nor any other Crown. Instead, he offers a half-hearted tilt of his head as he passes each court—acknowledging them but not submitting. It is a new dynamic I’ve yet to encounter in the capital, but the Crowns don’t blink twice at the behavior.

In fact, the Crowns don’t make eye contact with him at all. As if carved from ice, the room is frozen in place, tension weighing heavily.

I’ve seen the man before, always at Lord Gennady’s side. He’s younger than most of the Crown’s—maybe thirty or so. His black hair is longer, dangling in limp strands around his features. He’d stood to the side of the viewing booth during War Hour with a scowl the entire time. Watching me like, at any moment, I planned to attack his lord.

I had thought he was a guard.

The man strides across the silent room with the same sneer, and I fidget in the chair I’ve been given. Placed front and center for all the Crowns and Heirs to watch as I meet with the Truthsayer for the first time.

No one explains how this man will pull the truth from me. Could he see into my mind like Torryn? Discover my lies from within. Did he torture secrets out of you?

Just as I finish asking the question in my mind, Torryn answers.

Once he touches your skin, you will only be able to tell the truth. It will not hurt, but most find it a disconcerting feeling. The Crowns are terrified of him.

My eyes flick to Torryn, who has taken his seat as the Court of Self’s lord. Just as before, the seat next to him is vacant.

I consider scolding him for skimming my thoughts without my permission, but I’m too worried about how this will play out. I need every bit of help I can get.

Wrinkling my brows, I frown.

It didn’t explain how the Truthsayer did it. Would it make my thoughts just flow out of me? I already planned to tell the truth.

Lysta, I mean, it will be impossible for you to tell a lie.

Oh.

It explains the room’s apprehension of the man. Wielding the truth is a weapon that could start and end wars without ever setting foot on a battlefield.

The older man stops in front of me, blocking Torryn from my view. He doesn’t greet me, but from the way he shoots disdain over his shoulder, I think it has more to do with his dislike of the Crowns rather than me.

Lord Gennady chirps in when the Truthsayer does nothing to introduce himself. “Lysta, this is Severin, my second in command—besides Evander, of course. He is the last remaining Truthsayer and has been for the last few decades. A rare gift of the Trials indeed.”

Meeting Severin’s dark eyes, I tilt my head in greeting, murmuring a soft, “Thank you for coming to help.”

The Truthsayer’s eyes widen at my gratitude, the corner of his mouth twitching, before his eyebrows furrow deeper. Severin pulls a black leather glove off one hand slowly, bunching it in his other fist. “Where—may I—” he asks, gesturing to my body, and I realize he is asking for permission on where to touch me.

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